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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29335926">any way you want it</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/writing_good_vibes/pseuds/writing_good_vibes'>writing_good_vibes</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>i see you only at night [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Death Machine (1994)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Brad Dourif character, Drug Use, F/M, Mild Sexual Content, Reader-Insert, Semi-Public Sex, rated M to be on the safe side, there is a knife but it is used for practical reasons only, unprotected sex?</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-02-10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-02-10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-13 12:00:16</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>918</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29335926</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/writing_good_vibes/pseuds/writing_good_vibes</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Jack Dante is no good.</p>
<p>(Jack Dante x Reader)</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Jack Dante/Reader</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>i see you only at night [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/2168649</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>any way you want it</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>I watched Death Machine and this is the result. Yes I am aware that Dante is gross, but Brad is baby so..</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>        Jack Dante was a creep, very likely dangerous, and absolutely no good. This may or may not have contributed to why you were letting him rail you in his basement "office" at CHAANK Industries.</p>
<p>***</p>
<p>You met him a few years ago, in his brief period of freedom between the institution he had been in and working for CHAANK, at a gig. You were both waiting around to buy uppers from the same dealer.</p>
<p>"After you, man," you said, gesturing for him to go first.</p>
<p>He smiled at you, a crooked grin that made you smile back. His eyes were a piercing blue that glinted in the low light of the dingy-as-fuck bar.</p>
<p>Your attention drifted away from him as you waited. If you had paid attention you'd have known he bought six little pills. He turned back to you, sticking his tongue out and popping a single pill. He kept his eyes on you as he closed his mouth and swallowed. </p>
<p>You smirked.</p>
<p>"Want one?" he asked slyly, licking his finger and dipping it into the pill baggie, letting one of them stick.</p>
<p>You watched as he stepped towards you, holding the pill up to your lips. You licked your lips, they were chapped from the recent cold weather. </p>
<p>His eyes, unyielding, found yours. You leant forward, barely an inch, and sucked his finger tip into your mouth, the pill's chalky surface sticking to your tongue. </p>
<p>Pulling away, you smiled as you swallowed.</p>
<p>***</p>
<p>Ten minutes later you were kissing, your hand clutched in the front of his t-shirt as you dragged him into a toilet stall.</p>
<p>He nudged your legs apart roughly, gripping the back of your knee with his cold hands. You would learn that his hands were always cold.</p>
<p>The wall shuddered behind you from the force. You tangles his hair between your fingers, feeling him scrabble for your skirt. It was soon hiked up to your waist. </p>
<p>One of your hands left his hair, reaching to try and drop your panties, but before you had the chance, you felt the cool metal of a blade against your hip. He'd pulled a knife from his coat, his coat that was forever full of <em>stuff, </em>to cut through the cheap cotton of your underwear. If you hadn't just taken an upper, you might have been annoyed.</p>
<p>Needless to say, through all of this, bar the time he was actually inside you, he babbled his nonsense. Talking about some comic or other, or maybe a cartoon, you weren't quite sure, weren't quite <em>listening. </em>You were rather preoccupied by his lips and his hands and his...</p>
<p>***</p>
<p>You sighed. Your hips aching sweetly as you stood back on two feet. He kept his forehead pressed against yours, and you happily leant into him, still playing with the mess of his hair.</p>
<p>"I'm (Y/N)," you whispered.</p>
<p>"Jack," he replied.</p>
<p>***</p>
<p>You stayed at the bar until closing, smirking as you walked out of the bathroom with Jack. He lurked behind you like a child hiding behind their mother.</p>
<p>By the end of the night your lips were even more sore and, as you bid him farewell (with him already drifting away down the street, not offering to walk you home), you grabbed his wrist to keep him close by, whispering your number in his ear. You had a feeling he was the kinda guy who would remember it.</p>
<p>***</p>
<p>And with that, you were entwined. </p>
<p>You saw him regularly, hooking up at his dingy apartment; fucking and watching TV and ordering take-out and then fucking again. Repeat process.</p>
<p>Once he got hired by CHAANK (mostly because they had gotten wind of just how <em>smart </em>he was, partly to get on his good side by getting him acquitted on an unfortunate aggravated assault charge) he more or less relocated to their engineering department, holing up in his office, his boxes of <em>things </em>filing the shelves and his monitors providing an almost constant glow in the half-darkness of the room.</p>
<p>***</p>
<p>Which brings you back to now. The clatter of hardware falling from the desk you were bent over. His hands cold on your hip and harsh in your hair. He fucked as erratically as he did everything else.</p>
<p>There was something about him, the utter fixation he could have on one thing (namely railing you) whilst he chattered about whatever fleeting thought came to him in the meantime.</p>
<p>You were close. You tried to find purchase on the desk, fingers fumbling past action figures and discarded wires to find the edge of the desk, locking your fingers vice-like around it.</p>
<p>"Oh fuck," he choked out, leaning over you, his breath hot in your ear.</p>
<p>"Jack, please," you panted, teeth clenched as you felt the pressure build and then, finally, <em>release</em>.</p>
<p>***</p>
<p>When he was finished, he pulled out, kissing you briskly on the cheek before going and sitting in front of the TV monitors. He flicked over to and episode of Looney Tunes, Wile E. Coyote was still trying to kill Road Runner. You sighed, legs sore, leaning your head against the desk. Standing up straight before your back stiffened, you pulled your panties back up and shuffled over to the twin size mattress in the corner of the room. The sheets smelt of sweat, you didn't know when, over maybe even if, they had last been washed. But they were his, and just being lost in the clutter of his life, contained in this room, made you feel feelings you weren't totally cool with.</p>
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